OPERA REVIEW

OPERA REVIEW; Tale of Lust and Violence, So Tastefully Told

By ANNE MIDGETTE

Published: April 21, 2001

With sex, violence and melodrama, the rape of Lucretia seems a natural subject for an opera. The protagonists of this Roman legend are Lucretia, the only virtuous woman in Rome; the sexually omnivorous Etruscan prince Tarquinius, who rapes her; and her noble husband, Collatinus, whose forgiveness cannot keep his dishonored wife from killing herself.

Benjamin Britten, however, dealt with sex and violence somewhat obliquely, and never more so than in his 1946 opera, ''The Rape of Lucretia,'' which opened in a new production at the Manhattan School of Music on Wednesday. While painters from Veronese to Rembrandt presented Lucretia as a titillating blend of sexuality and chastity, Britten wrapped her in a safe layer of protective moralizing, imposing over the story two narrators, male and female, to put a Christian spin on events. The narrators explicated every action onstage with the detachedness of scientists examining objects in a petri dish.

An exception to this tone is the language of Ronald Duncan's libretto, so purple as to approach fuchsia. It is at a considerable remove from the vocabulary of science: ''the oatmeal slippers of night'' is one of many stabs at poetry that fall wide of their mark.

Britten's music, by contrast, has an inherent clarity. It can provide an underlying layer of illustration, as it does in the first scene in the Roman camp when the orchestra depicts the humid air, the regular rasp of crickets and the lights of Rome spangled across the horizon. (The narrator helpfully points out each element.) At other moments a solo instrumental line or flourish helps to define more precisely a vocal line onstage. Leading the Manhattan School Opera Orchestra, the eminent Julius Rudel brought out strong emotional definition, even if this was not an especially clean reading in terms of musical detail.

But Christopher Mattaliano's production was at best approximate. There is plenty here for a good stage director to work with, but Mr. Mattaliano settled for taking things at face value, outlining the story in broad gestures and distinguishing the Roman characters from the evening-garbed narrators simply through stagy, pasteboard-style costumes. In the scenes in Lucretia's home, the spareness of Neil Patel's sets evoked not so much chastity as a hospital's sterility, down to a bed on wheels, which made for a rather clinical rape scene.

The cast, therefore, didn't get much help; and while the singers acquitted themselves well, no one ventured outside the limits imposed by the production. The opera naturally spotlights the large roles of the narrators. James Schaffner displayed a tenor of considerable color and warmth, and Jennifer Goode, a soprano with a secure lower register, a clean if careful top and laudably direct diction.

Lucretia, originally the debut role of Kathleen Ferrier, was sung by Jessie Hinkle, as statuesque and cool as a marble goddess, although she did let her hair down, literally and figuratively, in the outrage and shame of the second act. Michael Rice, as Collatinus, has a strong bass that he has not fully grown into; and Brian Dore's Tarquinius was a large but unfocused presence who tended to be careless about details like vocal runs.

But for the most part, all of the singing seemed more careful than visceral. What didn't come across in any of the performances was the sexuality implicit in vocal music in general and in this opera in particular. One reason for bringing in a professional director to work with talented students would seem to be to help them broaden their emotional repertory, and Mr. Mattaliano did them no favors with his production.

The work will be performed again tomorrow.

Photo: Jessie Hinkle and Brian Dore in Britten's ''Rape of Lucretia.'' (Hiroyuki Ito for The New York Times)